


Famished

by embeer2004



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Caring, Friendship, M/M, Pack, hansa days, hunger, special genes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 21:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Geralt hadn’t eaten ever since Dandelion had come and picked him up from Brokilon forest. Oh sure, he’d accepted the soup his friends had made but it had been like taking food out of hungry mouths. After all, he had a different diet than his companions. Regis finds out why and offers his aid.





	Famished

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/gifts).

> Set in the early hansa days, just after the ‘soup incident’, but you don’t need to have read the books to understand this story.
> 
> I’m borrowing a headcanon of TrueTattoo’s here – thanks for that TT! It's an incredible fun one imo. <3 XD

Geralt was exhausted… and hungry. So hungry. He hadn’t eaten ever since Dandelion had come and picked him up from Brokilon forest and now they had just discovered that Cahir had been following them all the while. He simply didn’t have the energy to deal with that Nilfgaardian cur, not now…  
  
Swallowing heavily, Geralt grumbled and groused during the whole fish soup incident and while his companions were mocking him and praising friendship and teamwork and had gladly shared their teamwork meal with him it felt like taking food out of hungry mouths. After all, Milva and Regis and Dandelion and yes, even Cahir, needed to eat and the soup, while it smelled nice, wouldn’t fill him up… it was just wasted on him.  
  
Immediately after the soup, as quick as he could without being called a grump and a grouch, he headed into the woods, claiming to go in search of some more firewood.  
  
Squeezing his eyes closed, Geralt breathed in heavily, shoulders heaving with jerky motions as nausea overwhelmed him.  
  
Brokilon forest… the dryads… it had been so long ago now…  
  
And he didn’t have to eat like humans or dwarves or even elves did, every day three meals… but he’d grown used to daily meals and before that he’d managed to eat at least once a week, often more times…  
  
He pressed his arm against his belly when the little devourer in his stomach let loose a furious growl. Next town… next village they entered he’d lose his companions and seek for a house of respite… or perhaps he could entice a barmaid?  
  
Gritting his teeth, he cursed under his breath. Ever since the trials food wouldn’t sate him anymore and Vesemir had had a helluva time figuring out why their star pupil started wasting away after his second round of mutations. Why he stated that food tasted like ash and…  
  
Shaking his head, Geralt shook off that memory. Vesemir had found the cause, and he’d found a solution that didn’t involve fucking him into the mattress at only twelve years old, but one that succubus and incubus parents used for their own young… until they were old enough to go out and taste what the world had to offer.  
  
Scoffing, Geralt leaned heavily against a tree and rubbed his forehead against the bark, hoping the harsh surface would ground him back to the present.  
  
“Geralt?” A soft voice came from behind him. He hadn’t heard anything. _Regis, _silent vampire extraordinaire…  
  
“Hnnng?” He asked, feeling like the world was spinning. Turning around, the dark of the night got invaded by sparkling little lights and then… he opened his eyes and was half-lying on Regis’ lap. The vampire was stroking his hair, gently carding through the white strands with oh so sharp claws… so careful though…  
  
A hand pressed against the pulse point in his neck and then, after a few counts, tilted his chin up. Regis ducked down and stared into his eyes, feeling his forehead with a cool hand. “Small tremors… rapid breath, muscle weakness…”  
  
Geralt tried to push Regis’ hand away. “Am fine, Regis.” His little inside-devourer growled loudly then, embarrassing him.  
  
Regis blinked and kept staring at him, the way teachers are oh so very capable of to get naughty students to spill all their secrets.  
  
It was getting on his nerves… Geralt tried to lift himself from Regis’ lap, but the moment he was somewhat sitting upright stars exploded in front of his vision again and the world tilted.  
  
He’d have fallen quite awkwardly if Regis hadn’t rushed to grab him. “Geralt!” Regis’ voice was tinged with worry. “Please, dear friend… I wish to help you. Your symptoms… do you know what ails you?”  
  
Smiling wryly, Geralt decided that now was one of those times that he’d better give in to Regis and reveal just a piece more about himself. He reached up to grasp one of Regis’ wrists, squeezing it with still trembling fingers.  
  
“I’m starving, Regis,” he admitted guiltily, all of sudden not daring to meet the vampire’s eyes. “Quite literally.”  
  
Regis frowned, but he didn’t say anything; no doubt his friend was trying to figure out what was different about him, after all – Geralt had shared plenty of _human-fit _meals with them.  
  
Regis’ face smoothened and a sad smile appeared on his lips. “What do you need? If the food we eat does not sustain you… Do you need… blood?”  
  
Geralt shook his head. “No, not blood. I’m not a vampire, at least… not enough to feed like one.”  
  
Gently grasping his chin, Regis turned his head up, forcing Geralt to meet his gaze. “Is what you need something that I can provide? I am well enough to hunt, should it be near, but I suppose if it had been that simple you would have hunted long before it got this bad. What do you need, Geralt?”  
  
Geralt felt like a fish out of water as his mouth opened and closed several times without any sound coming out.  
  
A light touch on his temple pulled him back enough to allow him to focus. “I… have a quite unusual diet…” Geralt started, “ever since the mutations…” He swallowed.  
  
“Mutations? Ah yes, the ones you were subjected to in order to turn the young boy that you were into a witcher, correct?”  
  
Nodding, Geralt closed his eyes, not wishing to see Regis’ reaction. “Vesemir told me they’d mixed in too much incubus and succubus genes…”  
  
A tap on his nose caused Geralt’s eyes to flash open in surprise and he stared right into Regis’ eyes. Knowledge shone in those dark orbs.  
  
“When I was young there were other ways to handle my hunger, but now that I’ve grown older the only thing that fills my belly is…” he stilled, feeling it was weird to say this out loud.  
  
“The energies that are being released while one is enjoying, for instance, sexual intercourse, though there are some other activities that could release these energies as well,” Regis hummed thoughtfully.  
  
Geralt nodded. Regis got it, and thus he’d realise why his situation was quite hopeless.  
  
“Oh Geralt,” Regis’ fingers circled his temple, “_that _is certainly something I can help you with, if you allow me to, that is?” The vampire looked a bit uncertain.  
  
Startled, Geralt twisted his head around. “That easy, huh?”  
  
“Dear, sulking witchman…” Regis tutted, “it feels like _I _am the one imposing on you now with this knowledge. I myself would love to help you in the traditional way, and I am able to teach the other members of our hansa about the less… _erotic _way; I’m sure they’d be very willing to help you out with that, after all, it involves a lot of cuddling and you, witcher, have such a nicely warm body temperature. With the weather the way it is I doubt we’d even need to inform them of your exact nature, but I heavily recommend telling them, after all, they care greatly for you, even Cahir…”  
  
Frowning, Geralt tried to make sense of his friend’s cryptic words. He closed his eyes, wanting to ponder on Regis’ words a bit further. Why was Regis raving about _cuddling_ and _warm body temperature_?  
  
A gentle tap on his cheek. “From your increasingly worrying behaviour I’d say that we’d best not wait. Geralt, do you wish to feed from me?”  
  
“You’re… you’re not worried I’ll suck you dry?”  
  
The vampire smiled crookedly. “Remind me to tell you about one of my lovers, a succubus. I assure you, Geralt, that I’ll be able to handle you and your ravaging appetite. I have quite… the experience actually and energy aplenty.”  
  
It felt unreal. All of this did.  
  
Geralt was afraid to breathe in as Regis leaned down and lightly kissed his lips while one of his hands started undoing the buckles of his armour. “I told the others we’d be back later, Cahir’s taking the first watch. We can take all the time you need for this…”  
  
Smiling, Geralt reached up, pulling Regis closer towards him, feeling the strength beneath that lithe body. His heart, which only moments ago had been feeling heavy in his chest, had lightened considerably and butterflies started swirling in his belly.  
  
His little inside-devourer growled again, but Geralt smiled this time, envisioning the little necrophage he’d always imagined he’d carried inside him after Vesemir’s stories of eating all your greens; in a few minutes the little beast would be too full and sated to be a nuisance to him. And if… if Regis had had a succubus lover before then perhaps…  
  
Regis’ fingers undoing the laces of his codpiece pulled him back from his musings, and the cocky grin on the vampire’s face (fangs clearly showing) just before he kissed him warmed Geralt’s heart and made it beat faster at the sight…  
  
“Thank you,” Geralt managed to gasp out between kisses, reaching up to cup the back of Regis’ neck.  
  
Regis smiled against his lips and he could feel just a hint of pointy fangs against them while the vampire spoke and reached under his leathers. “Ah, the lone wolf is starting to learn that it can trust its new pack. For pack, after all, looks after one another. Vampires too, especially higher vampires form packs, _family_, humans would call it. Why, did I ever tell you about-”  
  
Geralt kissed him, interrupting the flow of words. “Hush now, vampire. Save your lectures for when I can see straight again.” He’d actually appreciate learning more about higher vampires and, apparently, their pack dynamics. But later, not now…  
  
The cool touch made him jerk his hips upwards and a shudder ran through his body. This is what he had missed, what he had yearned for ever since Brokilon.  
  
The fingers of Regis’ other hand trailed the tip of his ear, rubbing lightly at _just the right spot_.  
  
A moan escaped his lips. He wanted _more_, more of this. “Regissss.”  
  
The vampire playfully nipped his jaw, and then Regis’ attention was focused solely on him. Hands roving over his body as clothes were slowly discarded, piece after piece until he was completely naked and then Regis _puffed up _into some kind of blackish smoke, leaving his clothes to drop to the ground as he swirled towards him. A moment later he materialised on top of him, sitting on his lap with his knees pressing against Geralt’s hips.  
  
Regis reached for his wrists and carefully held them in one hand, moving them up above Geralt’s head, and then he pressed light kisses and hot licks all over his skin, making his body feel all warm and tingly.  
  
“As you wish, Geralt.” Regis looked up at him then, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Bon appetite!”  
  
**The end  
**


End file.
